


Tentative Happiness

by FixerRefutation



Series: Ouma Kokichi's Theory of 'Happiness.' [9]
Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Accidental, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Everything is Beautiful and Everything Hurts, Fluff, Gen, Happy birthday Ouma, I mean it, accidental suicide attempt, bday fanfic, see for yourself
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-21
Updated: 2018-09-03
Packaged: 2019-05-26 15:44:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15004097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FixerRefutation/pseuds/FixerRefutation
Summary: Today was like any other. There was nothing particularly special, or important about it, either. It was an easily forgettable, mundane day in the 'academy' hosting 16 students and a monochrome teddy bear.





	1. Anemone

**Author's Note:**

> sorry sorry this is quick and rushed but i hope you like it?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'Forsaken.'

Today was like any other. There was nothing particularly special, or important about it, either. It was an easily forgettable, mundane day in the 'academy' hosting 16 students and a monochrome teddy bear. 

It was also a day where he liked to sit, preferably on a high place, and just do nothing. The breeze ruffled his hair, and the sun painted the sky with streaks of orange-pink-purples to signal a new day. He didn't particularly like this day, or care about it. There was just something stupid about celebrating the mere fact that someone was born. So what, really? There were thousands of people born on this day, too. Did that make him special? No, not really. 

Today, he laid in the grass, undisturbed, unfeeling. No masks, no acting, just utter calm that made that constant voice in the back of his head whisper,  _it's too quiet, too suspicious._  

He laid on his back, and stared. 

-

Kirumi watched everyone eventually stumble into the dining hall, some yawning, others running in, or being accompanied by others.  As always, she made a silent headcount.

  _Amami, Saihara, Akamatsu..._ she passed out more plates. 

_Momota, Harukawa, Yumeno..._

Excluding herself, there were fourteen classmates in and about.  She looked through the door, as if expecting a lithe figure to burst in through and make the hall livelier.

He didn't come.

-

He stayed where he was. His stomach was growling, but he was used to it, so he let it pass by, not fazed at the hunger pangs. He took the memories he'd labelled as suspicious, and delved in them, savoring every evasive moment of happiness with a lie of a family he never knew. He stayed, blank face, staring quietly at nothing. 

-

Kaito looked over his Monopad, an all too practiced gesture he’d came to despise. Clicking past the rules, checking over his ‘inventory’, he tapped on the student profiles, and scoured through them all. He already knew everyone, what their talents were, and what they liked and disliked (to a certain extent), but he wanted to check. _.something._

He didn't know, but it was just a gut feeling. And Momota Kaito couldn’t help but trust his gut.

-

Finally growing a little bit restless, he turned on his side and hummed. He hummed a familiar song he was sure he heard before, maybe from the Pianist's lab, or maybe from the AV room. He studied the grass in front of his face and poked it. It wobbled, freezing for a moment before continuing. How strange. He batted at it again, bored.

It didn’t move.

-

Breakfast, at first, was usually a normal affair. Tojo-san served everyone, set the tables, welcomed them to the dining hall. They greeted her back in increasingly abnormal ways, from sending a dove to sit on the maid’s shoulder, to tackling her in a hug before sitting down. Usually, the only one who actually did to that was Ouma, and judging by the her frequent glances at the doors, Ouma-kun hadn’t arrived yet.

Shuichi wasn’t very worried- occasionally, Ouma did skip breakfast, so Tojo-San often left a plate of food near the leader’s door, always empty the next day.

He politely asked her over, moving to the end of the table and muttering under his breath, “Where’s Ouma-kun?”

She held a gloved hand over the other, looking slightly concerned. “I’m afraid I don’t know. I left a plate of food for him last night as well as this morning, as he requested to be alone earlier on. Perhaps-“

A stomp on the sparkling floors drew everyone’s attention to an astronaut as he drew a genuinely surprised expression. The quiet chatter paused, as did the louder ultimates.

Shuichi didn't know what Kaito looked so panicked about until the astronaut gave him the reason. “IT'S HIS _FUCKING_ BIRTHDAY?!"

Kirumi calmly slid her Monopad out of her dress, skimmed through the boys' profiles, and she paused at the last one. "..ah." Was all she said.

Maki, who didn't appreciate being left in the dark, took out her Monopad, and tapped rapidly at it until she growled with contempt. "Well, no one's celebrating _his_ birthday."

Shuichi slowly took out his Monopad as well as the others who'd paused in confusion. He moved from profile to profile, and stopped.

He checked the date. 

And he moved back to the profile. 

"Ah." He said.

-

He rolled on his stomach, and despite the grass stains that were inevitably on his uniform, he stayed in place. If Gonta found him, he wondered, would he look like some kind of bug to him? 

He rolled back onto his back, and sat up to stare at his monopad, bored beyond reason. What should he do today? Go back to his room and draw on the whiteboard? Play some pranks? Mess with Kiiboy? Mess with Momota-chan? Or maybe try finding a way onto the highest place possible?

That sounded fun. Where would the highest place possible be, anyway? 

...Well, he'll maybe he'd settle for the window overlooking the pool. 

-

Kiibo got dragged into looking for Ouma-kun, due to Momota-kun's logic ( _A robot like you has got to have x-ray vision or something, right? That'll definitely come in handy!)_ , and despite his protest and logical arguments ( _Isn't this robophobic?!)_

He got stuck with Amami-kun (who, on most occasions, seemed to have an Ouma sensor), Saihara-kun, who knew where Ouma-kun often hung out, Gonta, who could probably see Ouma from miles away, and Momota-kun, who was planning to 'talk' to Ouma about why he didn't tell anyone before about his birthday. All the girls were entrusted with making an impromptu birthday party and finding gifts for the boy. 

Shuichi had once told him that he got his presents at the Monomachine, so all the girls tasked with finding presents decided to try their luck, Akamatsu leading the way.

Gonta, Tenko, and Himiko were apparently planning to unleash butterflies and confetti using her 'magic', Tenko mostly there to protect Himiko, and Angie unleashed her paints on a blank canvas. (It was a really easy job, and Gonta and Himiko found the perfect butterflies to use rather quickly.)

Kirumi and Maki made the food, because Maki could apparently make sweets. Strange indeed.

(Kirumi eventually found Maki attempting to ‘spill’ an unidentifiable liquid into the cupcake obviously meant for Kokichi.)

-

He swung his legs, looking down at the pool. 

And he laughed.

He giggled and giggled and even when tears slipped down his face and he hiccuped quietly and he keeled over dangerously, looking over the pool,

No one came.

And why would they, really?

-

Naturally, everyone decided to split up, Saihara, Gonta, and Amami taking on the main buildings, Kaito and Kiibo in the dorms. 

Kaito knocked on the door. "Ouma?" 

Silence.

Kiibo knocked on the door. "Ouma-kun?" 

Silence.

The door was locked. 

He wasn't here.

"..Fuck."

-

Amami found him first. By chance, he stuck his head into the pool room, just for a quick, precautionary look, and he froze when he heard laughter emanating from the pool. It was cold and empty, and sent a shiver up his spine. No one else could make that sound. He waved Gonta and Shuichi over, and everyone was quiet for a moment until Gonta- sweet, oblivious Gonta- called up to him. "Ouma-kun?"

Kokichi gave a start in surprise, looking down at him and Amami and Gonta and for a quick second, Shuichi saw- crystal tears, shattered galaxies. Just as quickly, the leader tilted away his head sharply, and raised an arm to his face. He tilted forward a bit more-

* 

Kokichi jumped in surprise at the sound of voices, shaken up and unprepared. He tilted forward a little bit more-

And lost his grip.

Goddammit.

 

 


	2. Freesia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And I thought this was a lighthearted fic
> 
> Why cant I just stick to the f l u f f ?

His heart rose to his throat, and he felt weightless for a split second before gravity kicked in and he realized that  _if he hit the ground, his bones would go_ crack-crack-crack _and his head would go_ sting-bang!-sting  _and he would be down, down under and all on the day he was born too_ \- and he would be hurt hurt hurt enough be incapacitated and then he wouldn't be able to prevent any more murders and oh no oh no  _oh no_ it would all go to hell-

He hit his head.

His arm stung.

When would he learn? 

The day he was born was a goddamn curse.

  
* 

Gonta tried, he really did, but Kokichi was so far away and no matter how fast Gonta ran, he could never make it to Kokichi.

Just as Gonta reached out-

Kokichi hit his head.

Gonta was so very useless.

  
*

Amami often tried to keep Kokichi far away from danger; he'd claimed that duty as the troublemaker's surrogate older brother; but seeing the boy sitting alone made his heart twist painfully and his heart relocate to his esophagus, as if Kokichi being alone defied his very nature as a big brother and it disturbed him.

And when time slowed down; and when he could see the exact moment Saihara cried out, the moment Gonta rushed forward, he couldn't move. No matter how cliche it sounded, his breath caught in his throat and his eyes widened. 

Move move move-

_but what if-_

_why can’t he-_

_useless brother._

And he still couldn't move.

*

Shuichi hadn't known true terror. He was no stranger to guilt, or even fear, but he had no reason to feel terror, even back then, when the cruel, cold, vengeful,  _terribly melancholy_ eyes stared straight through him and stabbed straight into his heart just like their sinful victim. His mind stopped thinking, and he could hear Gonta's footsteps and he could hear Amami's breath catch in its throat and he'd be damned if someone died on their birthday, and if the killing game  _finally_ started up.

He cried out, and reached over to Ouma as if he could catch him.

Ouma fell.

A sick,  _thunk_  of head on pavement.

*

He wished he could say it didn't hurt.

He wished he could say he just jumped it off ( _like a damn cockroach_ ) and left with a smile on his lips and a parting laugh, waving everything off like it was nothing.

He wished he would just  _move, already._

But the dark creeping into his vision and the numbing pain clutched at him gently, dragging him in deeper, cold, warm  _stickiness_ bleeding through his white clothes really told him otherwise, didn’t it?

*

There were no infirmaries. That was a fact Shuichi was painfully aware of as he and Gonta scrambled to find Kirumi, their next best chance of first aid.

*

Kirumi left the girls alone in the kitchen, and once she saw Ouma, a little clump of white in Gonta's arms, she'd calmly relocated him to her room. Shuichi offered to look over him, and so did Amami and Gonta, but Amami was quickly scouted out to go to the kitchen to help the girls cook, and Himiko needed Gonta to rehearse their magic trick together. Kiibo had to see Iruma, who wanted to upgrade him, and Kaito needed to talk to Korekiyo and Tsumugi about themes.

That would leave just Shuichi in charge of taking care of Kokichi, as Kirumi had significantly more to prepare than the rest of them. 

Shuichi was left watching over the purple-haired gremlin, unaware of the new plans Kirumi made to adapt accordingly to the current situation. She moved from place to place, informing everyone of the current situation.

*

Shuichi studied Ouma-kun. A childish face with a sickly pallor to it, accentuated by the dark-purplish hair. His face was uncharacteristically calm.

He could barely recognize him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear, next chapter has to be fluff darnit
> 
> *..also, I just realized the word count is 1• 666
> 
> ..Ouma, I think Satan wants his job back


	3. Purple Hyacinths

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Side S(aihara Shuichi)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Concussion: (MTBI, mild traumatic brain injury)
> 
> -sensitivity to light
> 
> -sleepiness or sleep disturbances
> 
> -headache (persistent or severe)
> 
> -fatigue, blackout, or poor balance
> 
> -amnesia, disorientation, or mental confusion
> 
> -Nausea or vomiting

Shuichi brought his hands up to Kokichi's face, and used his fingers to pull up pink tinted lips to form a little smile, trying to make it not feel too forced. Short, thick eyelashes just barely hidden by hair and eye bags that could’ve been mistaken as eyeliner adorned the top half of his face. His nose was small and cute, and Shuichi bet that if Kokichi was a little nicer, everyone would, at the least, like him.

(right now, he could pretend that Kokichi was okay.)

He could almost relax around him, while he was asleep.

Kokichi smiled when he was awake (with blank, empty eyes but with a duchenne smile), and sometimes, fleeting thoughts deemed him so very _fragile._ Shuichi patted his soft face, as if making sure he was actually human and not some porcelain, life-sized doll.  

 

It slowly but surely dawned on him what he was doing, and he pulled away quickly, cheeks pink in embarrassment. He instead tried to focus on the cleanliness of his room, courtesy of Kirumi (because when Tenko realized Shuichi wasn't supposed to be in the girl's side of the dorms, she flipped him out of Kirumi's room, going on a tirade of how perverted males were).

Kirumi understood completely.

The Monokumas on his shelves sparkled, and what little was scattered across the room had been cleaned up, and tastefully placed.

With the assistance of the library and with Tojo-san’s limited and yet still extensive knowledge in first aid, she had diagnosed Ouma-kun’s condition as a concussion, and had instructed Shuichi to bandage Ouma-kun’s arm before leaving him alone with an unconscious Ouma and a medical book.

“From my knowledge,” she started, pulling out disinfectant and petroleum jelly. “Ouma-san moved his arm in front of his head for protection.” She silently debated between gauze and cotton before settling on gauze. “That was enough to prevent getting hematoma, but not enough for a concussion and a  scrape.” She sounded frustrated as she dabbed away the blood that had earlier stained Ouma-kun’s sleeve a bright red, almost pink in the lights of his room. Shuichi watched her, fascinated by her lack of hesitance as she spread petroleum jelly over the injury.

He shifted nervously, not knowing what a detective was meant to do in a medical environment, but Tojo-San called for him specifically. She whispered to him, cupping one hand over his ear, telling him what she needed him for.

He paled only slightly, and nodded. As soon as he gave his confirmation, she stood up, and offered him the bandage. “I believe you’ve done this before?” He grasped the bandage.

 

“You know what you have to do, I’m sure.”

 

Gently, Shuichi elevated Ouma-kun’s arm, and wrapped up the wound, repeating the motions as he let himself get lost in his thoughts.

 

“...saiihara-chann..?” Ouma’s words were quiet, slurring together. He attempted to push himself up, but failed, wincing from the freshly bandaged scrape. Little cuts caused by stone residue opened up near the scrape, making its minuscule presence known by little spots of blood.

 

“Relax, Ouma-kun,” he whispered, throat hoarse.

 

Laughing- giggling, more like-, Ouma pulled his uninjured arm over his eyes, shielding himself from the bright lights. “Y’knoww I can’t do tha’, saiihara-chan.”

 

Shuichi pulled his arm off his face.

 

He put it back on.

 

Shuichi pulled his arm off his face.

 

He put it back on.

 

“..Ouma-kun, this isn’t funny.”

 

“Is ‘t me.”

 

“Ouma.” Somehow, even when injured, Kokichi seemed to find a way to screw with him.

 

Shuichi pulled his arm off his face, and held it down with one hand.

 

He shut his eyes and muttered, “Wha’ was tha’ for, saihara-chann..?”

 

Shuichi sighed. “Ouma-kun,” he began.

 

“No’ so loud.”

 

“Ouma-kun,” he whispered. “If I turn off the lights, would you feel better?”

 

“...maybe.”

 

Shuichi stood, and flicked off the lights.

 

Ouma sighed in audible relief, and opened his eyes, a hazy, unfocused lilac color.

 

Shuichi waited.

 

“..Ouma-kun?”

 

“..hmm?” his voice, uncharacteristically soft, slow, seemed to hold a certain ethereal quality to it as it filled the room from where he was.

 

“...I’m sleepy.”

 

Shuichi snapped from his temporary trance as he nearly tripped over himself to get to the bed. “A-ah, don’t sleep now!”

 

Ouma whimpered and covered his ears. “Loud..” Shuichi lowered his volume, feeling almost sheepish. “Sorry.” It was back to whispering.

 

“If it’s alright, Ouma-kun, do you remember why you were up there?”

 

“...”

 

“Ouma-kun?”

 

“..”

 

“It’s okay if you don’t know, I just wanted to-“

 

“It’s my birthday today.” His voice became so clear to him as he stopped rambling, at least for a while.

 

“Huh?”

 

“Di’ you forget? It’s my birthday today.” Ouma-kun repeated, going almost scarily still. “I went up there to..”

 

He scrunched up his nose, trying to remember. “..to think.”

 

Shuichi paused. This wasn’t the answer he was expecting. “To think?”

 

“...yeah.”

 

“About what?”

 

Kokichi quieted down.

 

“Ouma-kun?”

 

Kokichi remained silent.

 

“..maybe later? Please?”

 

Shuichi sat next to him, and smiled gently. “..okay. Later.”

 

Kokichi blearily smiled back up at him.

 

“..also, I have a headache.”

 

“Agh, why didn’t you tell me earlier, Ouma-kun?!”

 

“ughhh… _loud…_ ”

 

“O-oh, sorry-!”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next, in Ouma’s POV.
> 
> (hhh let me stare in despair at this chapter-)


	4. Gladiolus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear i have a consistent update schedule

_ Squish, squish _ .

 

Blood glittered pink under the artificial light of the greenish-blue hangar. Something like pain fluttered along his arms and his back. A dull sting sparked along the crown of his head, a painful reminder of a birthday spent alone. 

 

Or maybe it was Shinguji, that incest-loving bastard. That crappy shit almost got three deaths under his belt, didn’t he? 

 

_ Well, that would be better for Miu and Gonta, wouldn’t it?,  _ he woozily thought, giggling softly.

 

A grunt as uncomfortably warm hands dragged his cold, pale ones along the floor. “Agh, shit,” the voice muttered. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, ‘kay?”

 

He muttered in return. “Mmm. Can you stop dragging me so harshly? I..just, got hrrt’..” he giggles again, even though there was nothing silly about this situation. “Y-y’knoww..when I thought I was going to die..” he paused. He never wanted to accept the idea of dying, even if it was inevitable once he started his ‘mastermind’ plan. 

 

The hands pulled him up, helping him take off his scarf and his shirt. He doesn’t know why, but he giggles again. Taking off his shirt in front of this self-proclaimed ‘rival’? Expected, and planned, but very awkward. 

 

The idiot coughed awkwardly as he made his way to the hydraulic press. “W-we shoul’ hurry..” blood dribbled down his lips, the unwelcome poison seeping it’s way into his system, killing him from the inside. He blinks, and the world blurs in shades of pink before clearing.

 

Pink.

 

Green.

 

Pink.

 

Green.

 

_ I spy with my little eye.. _ he collapses near the press, poison eating through his thin body, energy spent. At this point, only his arms rested on the space idiot’s jacket. 

 

_ Weak. _

 

He struggled to move.

 

_ Weak. _

 

He couldn’t feel his legs.

 

“ _ Shit _ ,” he heard the space idiot curse,  _ pretty blood, his blood  _ staining the galaxy purple slippers as he rushed to the leader’s twitching body.

 

“..m’mo-chan..” his arms twitched, attempting to push himself up. “ _ m’mo-chan..”  _  There was something like a grumble as he was pulled up and settled-surprisingly gently- on the warm jacket.

 

His head hurt. 

 

Momota turned his head, coughing violently before looking down at him. “What?” he asked, his voice hoarse.

 

Ouma smiled weakly, grasping at the astronaut’s sleeve. “Don..don’t screw up.” he practically gasped, as the idiot stared at him with eyes bordering on annoyance or sympathy. “..yeah.” he replied softly, pulling his arm away. Ouma only grasped tighter.

 

“Tll’..tll’ sa’ra-chan..” he hesitated, if only for a second. “..to..to nt’ scrw things over..either.”

 

Momo-chan paused before nodding. For the first-and last, his mind helpfully supplied- time, he felt that warm hand ruffling his hair. He tried to shrink away, but he couldn’t do anything more than take labored breaths, now.

 

He doesn’t feel.

  
  
  


..

 

He wakes up to see golden eyes peering elsewhere (no fair, he wanted those pretty eyes to be aimed at  _ him _ ) before darting down to him as he slurred, “saiihara-chan..?” He attempts to pull himself up, not wanting to seem weak in front of the detective before dots of pain made its presence known in his arm.

 

“Relax, Ouma-kun.” Saihara-chan whispered. That voice always sounded so nice to him.

 

Laughing- giggling, more like-, he pulls his uninjured arm over his eyes, shielding himself from the bright lights. “Y’knoww I can’t do tha’, saiihara-chan.”

 

Shuichi pulled his arm off his face.

He put it back on.

Shuichi pulled his arm off his face.

He put it back on.

“..Ouma-kun, this isn’t funny.”

“Is ‘t me.”

_ “Ouma.”   _ By now, he can hear the detective’s slight exasperation in his soft voice. His shumai was always so considerate, wasn’t he?

Shuichi pulled his arm off his face, and held it down with one hand.

He shut his eyes and muttered, “Wha’ was tha’ for, saihara-chann..?”

Shuichi sighed. “Ouma-kun,” he began. Ouch. The sound echoed through his pounding skull, stabbing at his ears.  _ Quick, _ he thinks.  _ Say something that’ll make it stop. _

“No’ so loud.” Eloquent  _ and  _ short. 

“Ouma-kun,” his detective whispered. “If I turn off the lights, would you feel better?” hmm, the dark made it easier for murder, but the light was killing him, so..in the middle answer, then?

“...maybe.”

Shumai stood, and flicked off the lights.

Ouma sighed in audible relief, and opened his eyes, vision blurring slightly as he blinked. 

Pink.

Green.

Red.

Blue.

Saihara-chan sat next to his bed, as if waiting for some cue.

“..Ouma-kun?”

“..hmm?” his voice, uncharacteristically soft, slow, and sleepy, seemed to make Shumai shuffle around where he sat. Something that’ll totally make sense and make things interrogation-free?

“...I’m sleepy.”

Shuichi snapped from his temporary trance as he nearly tripped over himself to get to the bed. “A-ah, don’t sleep now!” Ouma gave an inaudible hiss as he flinched slightly away from the detective, the sound bouncing through his head as if it were on high.

He whimpered pathetically and covered his ears. “Loud..” Shuichi lowered his volume, feeling almost sheepish. “..sorry.” It was back to whispering, thank Atua.

They spent some time in silence before the detective piped up again, voice becoming notably softer.

“If it’s alright, Ouma-kun, do you remember why you were up there?”

“...” How was he going to tell him that he spent his birthday alone like a friendless idiot? How was he supposed to tell him about how much he missed DICE and their celebrations together? How, how, how..

“Ouma-kun?” Ooh, the detective was going to prod. How much was he willing to bet that Shumai thought he was going to spill with the concussion?

“..” He plays with the thought of forgetting it, like he did with how he got above the pool, but part of him thinks that maybe he should tell the truth. Just this once.

“It’s okay if you don’t know, I just wanted to-“ Ah, Saihara-chan’s started fiddling with his hands again. Best to talk now.

“It’s my birthday today.” His voice became so clear to him as he stopped rambling, at least for a while.

“Huh?” How cute, Shumai looked pretty flustered right now.

“Di’ you forget? It’s my birthday today.” he repeated, feeling himself freeze up.

“I went up there to..” Shumai’s quieted down, waiting. He scrunched up his nose, trying to remember. “..to think.” Nope, totally not telling his beloved about his loneliness.

Shuichi paused. Even with a concussion, it was obvious that wasn’t the answer he was expecting. “To think?” A stupid excuse, damnit. 

“...yeah.” Oh, okay, he was going with it.

“About what?” Nope. Nada. Unanswerable.

Kokichi quieted down.

“Ouma-kun?”

Kokichi remained silent.

“..maybe later? Please?”  _ Later,  _ he adds,  _ when I have full control of myself again. _

Shuichi sat next to him, and smiled gently, almost wearily. “..okay. Later.”

Kokichi blearily smiled back up at him.Was it a good time to mention..?

“..also, I have a headache.” 

Shumai paled slightly, lightly batting his good arm, mindful of his injuries.  _ Aww, how nice. _ When his beloved speaks again, his soft voice raises to his normal volume.

“Agh, why didn’t you tell me earlier, Ouma-kun?!”  _ Owww.. _

“ughhh… loud… ”

“O-oh, sorry-!”

..Shumai was really too sweet, sometimes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not five seconds in after the detective shut up, Kokichi grabbed his arm and pulled him into the bed. 
> 
> "K-kokichi?!" 
> 
> Shuichi ended up with a curled up leader in his arms, sleeping away with no regard for who might see them.
> 
> Kaede poked her head in, whispering, "Shuichi, get him over in-" she noticed his awkward position in the bed and the bundled up leader, and smirked. Shuichi flushed, "K-kaede, I swear it's n-not what it looks like-" She closed the door, giggling to him. "Don't get too comfy, Shuichi~"  
> -  
> Next chapter: Chrysanthemums.


	5. Chrysanthemums

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> School is coming and updates are my coping mechanism
> 
> update: i lost my tatsugotchi today in the saiouma pit  
> off to go cry somewhere or something i dunno
> 
> Sometimes

“Whaaat’s this about, Saihara-chan?” Kokichi asked, resting his head in the crook of Shuichi’s neck, close enough to teasingly blow on his ear. “S-stop that!” Shuichi flushed, attempting to crane his head forward as the leader laughed. He jostled Kokichi in return, attempting to keep his voice as soft as possible. “I-i’ll drop you if I have to, Ouma-kun!”

Ouma-kun yelped and tightened his one-arm hold on Shuichi. “Ehh? How mean, Shumai! I thought you loooved me!” Shuichi asked, somewhat nervously, “what made you think that, Ouma-kun?” Ouma smiled mischievously in return. “Weeell, besides the fact that you were in my bed?”

Shuichi’s face burned red. “I-i told you, _you_ pulled _me_ into the bed! A-and you know what? Y-you drool in your sleep, so-“ Ouma pouted, nuzzling his face deeper into Shuichi’s shoulder. He muttered against the fabric. “Didn’t you say you thought it was _cute_ ? I _am_ pretty great at cuddling, aren’t I?” Shuichi stuttered, caught off guard. “I-I-“ They were nearing the doors of the dining hall now. Just a few more steps-

“Hey, shota! Twinkhara! Get your gay asses over to this gorgeous girl genius!” Kokichi raised his good arm and pretended to look around. “Where’s the genius? Well, slut?” Miu blanched. “Hiiiiiiieeeeee? L-look, j-j-just-“ Looking embarrassed, she tried again. “Ba-bakamatsu told everyone why you were late and some of us may or may not have-“ She got cut off as a hand grabbed her around the waist, and yanked her into the dining hall.

Kokichi idly played with a lock of Shuichi’s hair as he asked, “What’s wrong with cow tits? She was acting suspicious, wasn’t she?” Shuichi sighed in defeat. With people like Miu around, nothing could be kept a secret for long.

 

“I’m sure it’s nothing, Ouma-kun. Let’s go eat-“

 

“Come to think of it, Shumai, why are we even going to the dining hall, hmm?” Crap, he was catching on, divert, divert-

 

“What do you mean? We’re going to eat, of course.”

 

“Buuuut that’s a lie, isn’t it? I mean, not Ka _yayday_ ’s lie, but close enough..Plus, I’d _much_ rather be spoon-fed by Saihara-chan!” Come to think of it, maybe it would be better to have just stayed in bed today.

“Ouma-kun, I-“ The dining hall was dead silent. The lights were off, and sunlight was filtered carefully to not give away the obvious confetti and terribly written ‘Happy Birthday’ signs. A tablecloth was draped over the table, where everyone was undoubtedly hiding, based on the whispers and sounds emanating from it. A slipper fell out.

Kokichi snickered quietly. Shuichi wished he could clamp his hand over the leader’s mouth. For a millisecond, the whispers paused before Shirogane and Himiko fell out from underneath the table.

Kokichi smiled at them. “Hey Himik-“ he couldn’t say more, as Himiko _chucked_ some colorful mix of confetti and glitter right into his face. He coughed, wiping away stubborn glitter as he listened to Himiko apologize to Shuichi, who got got caught in the crossfire. “..Sorry Shuichi. You were an..unfortunate casualty.” Kokichi snorted inwardly, and momentarily focused on picking out confetti that got caught in his shirt.

Shuichi tried shaking out the sparkles that invaded his vision to no avail, halfway pouting. He set Ouma down softly, and ran his fingers through his own hair. Another voice: Momota-kun’s, he presumed, rang out from underneath the table, loud even while he was whispering. “Quick, while he’s distracted!”

The rest of the twelve students stumbled out of the tablecloth, clothes rumpled, grabbing for birthday equipment made and customized by Miu herself. Kaede’s party hat spewed recordings of Chopin’s Nocturne op.55, no.1, or Clair De Lune, Suite Bergamasque, a unique rhapsody coaxed out only by the ultimate pianist’s minute movements. Kaito and Gonta didn’t get a hat, and Ryoma glares at his hat, tightening his grip on his beanie.

Kirumi and Korekiyo stood back in the corner, immaculate as ever, Kirumi holding a tray that she’d whipped out from behind her dress.

 

Himiko loaded her hat with more confetti, spilling glitter into everyone else’s hair with the help of Tenko.

 

Kaito and Kaede held out three fingers.

 

Two fingers.

 

One.

 

Everyone began singing at different times, ending with a shout that had Kokichi attempt to muffle his ears, almost releasing a whimper as his ears rang and his head began to hurt. Shuichi held his hands to his ears, staring down the loudest speakers (Kaito, Iruma), with a look that said, _I’m not angry, just disappointed._

 

(In the corner, Kirumi hid a smile behind her hand.)

 

The aforementioned two lowered their voices drastically, and Maki didn’t join in at all. Miu ended with a “Happy fucking birthday, virgi- oh wait, you’re not a virgin anymore ain’t ya?” Shuichi flushed, and Kaede batted at the inventor’s arm. “M-Miu!” She squeaked. “You said you’d be quiet about that!” While Shuichi rushed to explain. “W-wait, no, I, we just-“

Kokichi cut it all off with a smirk. “Yeah, yeah, we slept together. Have a problem with that, slut?” Momota jumped in. “ _Sidekick?!”_ Shuichi waved his hands around, panicking, a brilliant display of red. “N-no, I mean, yes, we d-did sleep _together_ , but i-it wasn’t- it wasn’t like _that_ at all!”

 

“To which he means I was great at it.”

 

“ _K-kokichi!”_

 

An hour or so later, Kokichi started dozing off on the detective’s shoulder, drooling slightly. Said detective gently moved the leader from his shoulder as Angie badgered him to come with her.

Kirumi stood in the aftermath of the party, sweeping up remains of confetti. Kaede, Rantaro, and a few others stayed behind to help, cleaning dishes and picking up dirty plates. Momota had volunteered to leave with Ouma while Shuichi left with Angie (why? Angie grabbed Shuichi’s arm and kidnapped the poor detective), and while there was a bit of hesitance, Momota promised not to talk loudly enough to hurt. He promptly slung Ouma’s arms over his shoulders, and left through the doors.

 

-

 

Shuichi looked around the Ultimate Artist’s lab, tentatively easing his tense shoulders as Angie shifted around a large canvas. She motioned him to sit in the middle of the room, and proudly removed the cover.

 

A blend of colors greet his eyes.

 

-

 

“Listen, Ouma..” Kokichi stirred awake on a warm body that seemed to be piggybacking him to who-knows-where. The voice was rough, and quiet at the same time, almost as if the speaker was unused to being quiet. Perhaps that should’ve tipped him off. He didn’t care right now, though, too sleepy to think rationally.“Mmm..” he mumbled, dipping his nose deeper into the fabric. “Imma sleep..bit longer, Sai-chan..” He felt the person _ahem_ and shift him around uneasily. Another harsh whisper invades the air.

 

“ _Ouma_.” …ah.

 

“Momota-chan.” Kokichi’s eyes open, bleary with sleep, and he talks, voice weak. “..Where’s Saihara-chan?” The astronaut doesn’t miss a beat.  
  
“Shuichi’s with Yonaga. I, um, shit, i-” Ouma cut in. “Don’t stutter so much, Momo-chan. It’s not cute.” Momota cleared his throat. “I’ll just cut to the chase. Why the fuck were you up there, anyway?” Ouma hummed and nestled his head back in the crook of Momota’s neck, too sleepy to care at this point about what the idiot would say.

Said idiot jostled him awake. He rubbed his eyes, smacking the side of Momota’s head in retaliation. It didn’t _matter_ that he was weak, what _mattered_ was revenge. He didn’t get to sleep that often, and when he could, certain _idiots_ disrupted his peace. “That wasn’t nice, Momo-chan..” the astronaut sputtered, indignant. “You hitting me wasn’t exactly ‘nice’ either!” Ouma winced a little, wishing the idiot would be a little more quiet. Actually, he wouldn’t mind if the guy just shut up and became an obedient pillow.

 

“Yeah, but I had good reason to do it.”

 

“Like hell you did!”

 

He pouted, lightly hitting his head against Momota. “Heeey, I have a reason for everything, Momo!” Predictably enough, the astronaut snapped back. “Well, then what’s your reason for going so high, then?!” His voice rose to a frustrated yell, ringing through the night and through Kokichi’s head. The leader immediately stopped and held his head, the sting on his arm increasing into a dull burn. Momota finally realized what he’d done, and lowered his voice again. “..shit, sorry.” He walked as slow as possible, stopping at times, careful to not jostle the whimpering leader.

It took a while before Ouma unclasped his hands from his ears, looking more awake and carefully avoiding his injuries as he sat up straighter. Kaito took his chance quickly before the gremlin had time to dodge the questions and divert the topic like he always did, always had done.

 

“Why did you try to _kill yourself?”_

-

 

His words are caught in his throat. Angie’s painting is..unmistakingly beautiful. She colored in a sort of abstract way, swirling pink for subtle blushes, cool colors shading the ultimates that’re crowded around a small, pale figure, and a taller, navy-haired one. He notices the careful detail on the character’s clothes, and the soft strokes capturing the dining hall in warm morning light.

 

“Soooo~? Do you like it? Do you liiiike it? Atua knows all, so don’t lie, don’t lie~!” She tilts excitedly from side to side, light on her feet.

 

He smiles at the smiling person holding the detective’s hand.

 

“Yeah.” He says, tracing his finger lightly over the leader’s cheek. He can feel dots of liquid paint stain his skin, and stands reverently in front of what seemed like a picture. “Yeah.”

 

“It’s..really nice, Yonaga-san.”

 

-

 

His words-mocking words, silly words, lying words- dried up in his throat. Speechlessness was an unfamiliar experience.

 

“..put me down.” The astronaut gives a start. “What?” Kokichi raises his head, pissed, tears prickling uncomfortably in his eyes. His features slowly being contorted by anger and a strange mix of..something. Oil and water. “I said _put me down, you brainless dolt!”_

Kaito pauses. He doesn’t put down the increasingly squirming leader. Instead, he moves to the closest place they could be alone. Clinging tightly to Ouma, he moved none too gracefully to the picnic tables. “Hey, this is between you and me. I promise. No one here. Not even Makiroll or Shuichi.”

He sets Ouma down as gently as he can onto the bench, holding onto his legs if the leader tried to run. He squirms for a little while more before releasing a dramatic sigh. “Fiiiine you caught me or whatever,” he drawls in an absolute monotone. Somehow, it retains a mocking edge, and Kaito has to clench and unclench his fist before sitting down next to Ouma, keeping a firm grip on the little leader’s thighs (which are really nice by the way; very-um, very _gay_ , he shouldn’t be thinking about that right now, crap). “I swear no one’s gonna know. Just between us.”

Ouma seems to stare through Kaito with that rare, blank stare of his. Kaito, albeit uncomfortable, holds his ground and stares back.

 

He stares into the abyss, and the abyss stares back.

 

-

 

Angie _glows_. She smiles excitedly, and basically throws out a blank canvas, working with a intensified frenzy that has Shuichi both worried and amazed by the artist’s speed.

When she finally stops, a picture stares back. It’s..it’s of Shuichi. And Momota, and Akamatsu, Kokichi. Angie _nyahaha’s_ happily, tapping her dark-skinned cheek with a paintbrush still dripping in colors. “Atua noticed Shuichi’s been around these three for a long while! Does Shuichi have an attraction to ultimates with a ‘k’ in their name?” Hmm? Hmm?” Upon hearing the question, Shuichi immediately turned, frantically waving around his hands in denial. “N-no! It-it’s just a coincidence, _I swear!_ ”

 

“Sooo who’s next? Korekiyo? Kirumi? _Kiibo?_ ”

 

“ _I’m telling you it’s not like that!”_

 

-

 

“...”

 

For a long while, almost too long, they stared at each other, an unspoken contest of wills. Something about Ouma’s blank, shattered eyes unnerved him, but he stood as firm as he could, even if illness seeped through his system and poisoned his body. He couldn’t help but stare.

 

It was all he could do, after all.

 

*

 

There was something about looking directly at people’s eyes that unnerved Kokichi. He’d constantly forced himself to, solely to become more adept at lying, but never for as long as _this._ Momota’s eyes were spades of dark amethyst, screaming ‘ _trust me’_ and _‘I’d burn in hell and die before doubting people!’_ and he realizes that there won’t be any way of raising this idiot’s IQ.

He wants to avert his eyes and just be safely tucked away in a bed or cuddling Saihara-chan, anywhere but here, but _nooo,_ he’s stuck with an astronaut about one IQ point higher than a vegetable.  He holds on to his rapidly failing resolve to stay put for about five seconds before attempting to slip out of Momota’s arms. The astronaut’s grip only tightens, reminding him that _no, there’s no escape you can’t run like you always do no no don’t try to go_

And the next thing he knows, the astronaut’s grip slackens, and his arm is stained with pink and the hanger is colored brashly in harsh greens and his vision is blurry and I want saihara-chan please

“-ma, Ouma man, if you were still sick, say something, will ya?” His cheeks are wet and he hates it hates showing weakness wants to be alone he doesn’t want this doesn’t like crying can’t please please

He’s shaking and crying and Momota’s fluttering around like a worried parent and it makes him smile a little because _wow_ Momo-chan would be a _terrible_ mother but he doesn’t have the energy nor the will to talk right now.

“Shit, shit I’m sorry, I’m sorry okay please, um _crap_ , I won’t bring it up again, okay, will you feel better if you stay with my sidekick, Ouma?” Momota’s words come out in a rush, as if he was unused to comforting people.

It takes a while to notice and answer the question, but when it does, he admits it on his own. “..yeah.” Kokichi reluctantly whispers, tugging childishly on a strand of purple hair, and the astronaut can’t tell whether the leader is being cute on purpose or if he was always this way- and no, no he shouldn’t be thinking about that right now but.

He wipes Ouma’s tears (shit that’s weird), and gives a supporting smile at the small teen, hoping he could help this lying asshole as much as he could.

 

“M-Momota-chan still hhas the IQ of a-a vege-table, t-though.”

 

“Shut the fuck up!”

 

“..ow.”

 

“Fuck, I’m so sorry-wait. Why’re you- Hey, you lil’ shit-!”

 

-

 

Shuichi carries a paper covered in color to the dorm room, smiling happily as he holds it to his chest. As soon as he enters through the dorm room, he sees Ouma in front of his door, back against the door, head lolling forward. “Huh?”

 

A note is posted on the leader’s forehead. It reads.

 

_‘Your problem now, not mine._

 Then, in _very_ small print,

_P.S: Take care of him._

_-☆Kaito, Luminary of the Stars☆’_

 

“Thanks, Kaito.” Shuichi set Angie’s picture of him and Ouma, and opens the door before princess-carrying Ouma in, onto the bed. He reaches his arm out and snatches the paper before setting it down on his nightstand. He just unbuttons his jacket before tucking himself in with Ouma, who nuzzles into his side, curling up just enough for Shuichi to brush away his bangs and set a light kiss on the leader’s forehead. When he retracts his head, his heart is breaking fast, and his face is flushed red all the way down to his neck.

 

Ouma is blissfully unaware.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last Chapter: My Be’love’d
> 
> “‘Don't let your dreams be dreams!’ ...or something like that.”


	6. My Be’love’d

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry this is probably not a very happy ending
> 
> Thank you for sticking it out ‘til the end, and sorry for my terrible writing, lol

_ Rantaro pokes his head in through the door not long after Kaede left. His face looks as relaxed as ever, even if his mouth is tugged down in guilt. His eyes are closed for approximately five moments before he opens his eyes. “Ouma-kun, are you-?” He pauses upon seeing an increasingly red detective in the bed, and a little ball that seems to be curled up close to him, before his eyebrows lift and he cracks a slightly surprised smile.  _

_ “Maybe I should come later?” Shuichi bursts out in a fresh burst of red, shrinking under the blankets bashfully as he moves closer to Ouma. His voice comes out, muffled from the sheets. “No, it’sh fine.. w-whaht did yhou wahnt to shay..?” _

_ “Haha, no.” The avocado man scratches his head sheepishly, small lines of worry on his forehead. “Maybe when Ouma wakes up...it’s nothing  _ that _ bad, just..” _

_ Shuichi understands. Shuichi will always understand. “You want to apologize to him, in other words.”  _

 

_ Rantaro doesn’t say anything.  _

 

_ His silence is enough. _

 

_ Shuichi rises as much as he can while Ouma attempts to cling tighter to him. “You know Ouma-kun wouldn’t blame you, right?” _

_ A laugh. “Who’s to say he doesn’t blame us now? Gonta was too slow, I was too weak-“ Shuichi cuts him off, uncharacteristically smooth. “You’re blaming yourself, aren’t you? Ouma-kun unintentionally pushed you to do that even more than you already have.” His voice grows ever softer, warming Ouma’s heart, pleasantly drifting past his ear.  _

_ Amami stands in front of Saihara now. His voice steadily, slowly becomes quiet. Unlike Saihara, Amami’s voice is dangerously soft, cold and undeniably melancholy. “I am not blaming myself. It  _ is  _ my fault, your fault and Gonta’s fault as well.” His cold hand settles on Ouma’s head, gentle and guilty-like. “Who knows, maybe it was because of all of us as to why he was there.” _

_ Saihara seems to stiffen. His demeanor feels off, somehow. “He wouldn’t do that. He’s too strong.” Another laugh, less dangerous and more normal.  _

 

_ Still guilty. _

 

_ “Who’s to say he wouldn’t? Saihara-kun, I’m sorry, but y’know? Maybe it’s true. What if he jumped? What if that fall  _ wasn’t  _ an accident?” _

 

_ Ouma tightens his grip a little on the sheets.  _

 

_“What is we_ drove _him to that?”_ _The cold,_ ** _lonely_** _hand plays with his flyaway hair, attempting valiantly not to tighten the grip on it. “He did say that no one would care if he died, anyway.” Saihara takes one hand to clutch Kokichi tighter to him. “A-amami-kun-“ he stutters, losing his previous, temporary courage. The green-haired teen realizes what he’s doing, and he retracts his hand almost instantaneously. Ouma wishes the hand would be warmer. He wishes the hand could pat his head, too. That was nice._

 

_ “I-I’m sorry. I should go.” _

 

_ No, don’t go. _

 

_ The two of them quit talking, looking at Ouma as he shifts and mutters. There’s a shifting of clothes before Ouma feels a cold hand on his cheek, nuzzling into it softly. A whisper, careful, measured, brotherly. “Gonta and I are sorry.” Shuichi joins in too, just as soft. “I’m sorry too, Ouma-kun. I’m sorry.” Shuichi turns to Rantaro, questioning. “Why..?”  _

_ Rantaro understands. What, he doesn’t exactly know.  _

 

_ “A sister of mine. School roof. Bullies.” And Shuichi understands. Shuichi always, always understands. _

 

_ “ _ I understand.”

 

_ When Rantaro leaves, Shuichi brushes Ouma’s hair out of his face. He adjusts the pillow, resting the leader’s still-bandaged head on it. He tentatively moves to rest on his side, so he could see Ouma better. He presses his forehead lightly against the other’s before loosely hugging him. Shuichi tries to understand Ouma, and might never will.  _

 

_ Maybe..if he promised to stay with Kokichi, he  _ would  _ understand, even if only a little. _

 

_...It’s late, a really late reaction, but he realizes their position has gotten more intimate than before. _

 

_...Purely..hetero, he thinks. _

 

(That’s a total lie.)

 

-

 

_ “Pa..thetic? Look at yourself, Ouma. Kaito  _ _ always has us by his side, see? But no one wants to be around you. You're alone, Kokichi. And you always will be." _

 

_ Shuichi..doesn’t understand. _

 

_ - _

 

_ This is not a will. _

_ The second message is on the wall next to the boiler in the rear garden. _

 

It was so impersonal. He turned to the back. 

 

Nothing. Holding his breath, he left the cluttered room and Maki behind to investigate the chaos of the Ultimate Supreme Leader’s room.

There, a small piece of paper resided on the stairway to the door outside the boiler room. It was covered in soot and ash, but the stark contrast of the white to the dark grey of the room itself made it distinguishable from the floor.

  
“...” Shuichi picked it up. It was another envelope, dirty but otherwise unscathed. The writing was as messy as ever, uniquely different from anyone else’s writing. The front started with a scrawled, “ _ to my beloved.” _

He perched on the floor and pulled out the first piece.  _ Don’t feel _ **_forsaken_ ** _ , Saihara-chan! I made this one just for you! ..If you’re not my beloved, then go away. _ He turned over the paper.  _ I mean it, go away. If you’re not my beloved and you’re reading this, my ghost will haunt you for the rest of your life!  _

He smiled slightly. That was Kokichi. Moving on to the second piece. _Aaaanyway, Shumai-if that is you, of course. Hmm, how do I start..?  Oh, i bet you were thinking about me after_ that _trial! Was I right? Well, was I, was I?_

 

“..I mean, you’re not wrong..” Shuichi muttered softly.

 

_..Well it doesn’t matter anyway, hmm? Did you break into my room? Did you see my lab? I bet it was cool! It was cool, wasn’t it? _ He nodded, almost in a trance, speaking to the air. “It was the coolest thing I’ve seen in a while, Ouma-kun.”  _ Breaking into my room  _ _ and _ _ my lab?! Gasp! Shumai, I trusted you! How thoughtless! _

 

“Kokichi…” 

 

_..That was a lie! Did you see my board? and my clues? How  _ **_thoughtful_ ** _ of me, right? Do you miss me even more now? _

 

“..More than ever. You?” Silence answered him. He swallowed, finding it harder than ever to speak. When he did, his voice came out shaky and trembling. “..I-i’m sorry. I’m so, _ so  _ **sorry** .. I-i s-should’ve-..” He wipes his tears.  _ God, _ he had always been easy to cry.

_..You’re probably blaming yourself right now, aren’t you. Geeez, Saihara-chan is so quick to blame! It’s almost annoying.  _ He’s crying at this point, attempting to keep the tears from falling and ruining the last thing Kokichi left for him.  _..That was a lie. My beloved is just too sweet, isn’t he? Too kind and too self-destructive. Maybe that’s why we fit so well.  _

 

“..It’s more than that. It was always more than that, Kokichi.” The back.

 

_...I’m sorry, too. For leaving you behind  _

 

Two-three words were scribbled out.

 

_ With the mastermind. For leaving you alone. But, like  _

 

The word ‘idiot’ was crossed out with a single line, as if it was intended for Shuichi to read. He smiles through his tears. Ouma-kun always did try to cheer him up in his own, roundabout way.

 

_ Momo-chan says,  _ The rest of the paper was covered in stars, leaving room at the bottom for the saying.  _ Don’t let your dreams be dreams! ..or something like that.  _

 

This time, Shuichi actually  _ did  _ laugh.  _ I’m sure you can  _ **_persevere_ ** _ through this, Shumai! Why do you think I left all those clues for you? ..That’s right! Because I trust you, of course! Nishishi~ _

 

His hands trembled. The writing seemed to begin growing shaky.  _ Shumai, I miss you, okay? Find out the real secret behind this stupid show. And when you see me again, Shumai..  _ The ink trailed off. He turned to the back. Instead of words, careful drawings of documents and books and a single, white star that seemed to be woven into the paper meant for him. He rubs a thumb on the star, and realizes it actually is woven in. 

He scrambled for the envelope, shaking out three more pieces of paper into his lap. One paper showed daggers reflecting galaxies, the back with pictures of half-assed anime characters, one more with rocket boots and a few hidden dicks in the corner (He had to admit, he might’ve snickered a little at the card meant to be Kiibo’s.) Cards and confetti and the occasional dove decorated the whole of the back.

 

The final one had a drawing of a single  _ chrysanthemum _ under a glowing sky. It had the soft, handmade creation reminiscent of the Supreme Leader’s art. He turned to the back.

 

_ “I love you!” _

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

__

 

 

 

 

_ He wakes up. _

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was it a happy ending?

**Author's Note:**

> Was that dramatic?
> 
> Yes.
> 
> Do I regret it?
> 
> A little tbh.
> 
> I'm too lazy to finish today (*actually has no idea what to put as the ending)


End file.
